I
was born into a fairly Catholic home. I say fairly because in the hierarchy of
Catholic devotees, we ranked lower than most of my other extended family
members. Who spent many hours throughout the week at church, invited the priest
over for holiday meals, even housing nuns from out of town a few times. They
definitely earned their badge of hardcore Catholic, unlike us.
Every
Sunday my family and I would go to church, where I was rewarded with my sacred
paleta after every sermon. I’m not sure if my parents intended it to be a
reward for sitting through the guilt fueled undertones of almost every service.
All I know, is the sugar rush from the artificial colored paleta laced with
sugar would somehow make it all worth it, until the next Sunday. And just how
the priest never failed to show up every Sunday morning, neither did the
paletero man, with his ironically “white” van stashed with sugary
delights.
At
home, our religion was in everything from our dinner, road trips, home décor,
clothing, jewelry and even that one thing everybody hints around but never
says. Especially for la mujercitas, like my little sister and I, we were to
“save it”, until we got married. So no talks about sex, but a lot of talk about
rules, especially for the ladies was a large part of my religious upbringing.
For
as long as I can remember, I have always had a curiosity to understand what I
don’t know or can’t explain. Especially in my teenage years, this led me to question
the role of power and freedom between males and females in my family and
church. Why could women not become priests? If the church says dresses are for
girls, why is the priest wearing one? Why are only females told to behave and
not be promiscuous? Why don’t boys have Quinceñeras? And why are people so nice
to each other in church, but won’t flinch at the chance to rank someone else’s
Catholicism?
It’s
the build up of unanswered questions and hypocrisy that have slowly
deteriorated my Catholic beliefs. And as a result, sparked deeper interests to
research and understand the formation of religion and the powers it has to
dominate and colonize. I know that in discussion religion (Catholicism or
Christianity) I am slowly decolonizing my mind and lifestyle faster than the
average Catholic or Christian, but with this also comes privilege.
My
social location places me in a critical academic setting that affords me the
access to information and reflection time to self-analyze and deconstruct parts
of my identity. In many other circumstances, the culture of Catholism is so
deeply embedded in all facets of someone’s life, that there is not room to step
away from the colonizer; it is there even when you don’t see him. God? No! It’s
the internalized domesticated self-talk of learned beliefs and habits, that
guilt’s or scares you to not question or critic.
However,
as I reject the Catholic religion, I don’t necessarily reject the culture and
symbolic imagery associated. Lupe (Guadalupe) is my homegirl, like the T-shirt
says. My mother and Lupe tagged teamed me growing up, disciplining me with much
of the beliefs, passions and integrity I have today. More recently, learning
about Guadalupe's colonizer survival of the Spaniards, she is a constant a
reminder of strength and survival. My mother is also a modern day survivor of
colonization for leaving her home and trekking through foreign lands for me to
be here in the United States. These aspects I find empowering and necessary to
bring back forward from the Catholic Church.
And
with time I am learning to navigate my religious past and make it my own today.
I intend to not only continue the legacy of survival from the examples I have
learned from my mother and Lupe, but to thrive. I am constantly creating my own
belief system that fits my unique needs in today’s colonizing society. A
society that today continues to mirror much of the patriarchy values of the
Catholic Church.
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